Force Majeure
by Misty Windows
Summary: Superior Force 'I will have Francis, the real Dauphin of France, as payment.' Might turn to M.
1. Marie de Guise is formidable

I've had this idea toying at the back of my head while watching all the hoopla of Mary's decision in setting the course of three nations by believing in Nostradamus' vision.

Everyone's head will roll every which way.

* * *

**_Force majeure_** is a common clause in legal contracts that essentially frees both parties from obligations when an 'act of God' event or circumstances beyond both parties' control prevent one or both parties from fulfilling their obligations under the contract. But, the clause, does not excuse a party's non-performance entirely and voids the contract, only suspends it for the duration of the Force Majeure.

* * *

Prologue - Because Marie de Guise is formidable.

* * *

"... along with vegetation, the land is also fertile with coal, iron and silver. And, gold. Good for craftsmen and their craft. I see a future in Smithing... "

"Spoken like a true king who knows his land and his people." Marie de Guise nods in awe.

"Indeed, we raised a good son." Henry boasted, proud at a son he never been a real father to.

"Then as payment for the betrayal of France-"

"Marie de Guise! What-"

"-and the humiliation France has set upon on Scotland-"

"Stop this nonsense, Marie! No payment-"

"On the contrary, Henry, I blame you for this nonsense! You betrayed Scotland. You! Bastard broke the alliance. And I will have my payment. I will have Scotland's payment!"

Marie, with determination and the iron-clad will of a harden sovereign, set her eyes, "I will have Francis, the real Dauphin of France, as payment!"


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Because Marie de Guise is formidable.

* * *

Marie de Guise's entrance was anything but greatly received.

The King and Queen of France, her brother, her lovely daughter Mary on the other side, every nobility at the French court. All looking gloomy. Like she was the dark rain to their festivities. Except there's a chopping block with a shiny axe on where the thrones used to sit.

A beheading to commence. She arrived just in time.

"I see much has changed since I was here. Love the new decor. I'm glad the thrones are out. They were hideous. I'll ship in new Iron thrones. Catherine, Henry. No need for pleasantries, though I do like a feast this evening, celebrating my arrival and the wedding of my daughter and the dauphin Francis." She wrinkles her nose. "And whose head will roll today, Henry? Who has betrayed the crown of France? My brother?"

Without waiting for an answer, she goes to her daughter. "My dear Mary, come here. Let me look at you."

Marie pinches her daughter's cheeks, putting color on Mary's pallid face. "You've been well fed but you look exhausted. Pale. Quite unhappy. And where's Francis? Shouldn't he be here? Where is your fiancé, Mary?"

"Francis is not here. He won't be." Catherine said, matter-of-factly.

Marie swivels her head at an angle towards Catherine. "And why is that? Is he sick? He's dead?"

Everyone gasped at Marie's words. Except Mary. Mary trembled and swayed on the spot. Bash took a big leap to get to Mary, but Mary shook her head. She didn't need his help. Somehow she stayed upright, albeit shakily.

Marie looked around the ballroom. Some heads shifted to avoid her gaze. Others were looking at the floor. Henry looked totally clueless. Catherine's flashing eyes pierced through her though.

"What? Mary, your last letter was full of Francis this and Francis that. What happen-" Marie frowned at a trembling Mary.

"Mary! Why are you trembling? What have you done? Did you kill, Francis?"

"Mother! I could never! He's alive. But I am not marrying Francis, Mother. I can't."

"Mary! You cannot refuse to marry the dauphin! The alliance-"

"Oh the alliance is still intact." Henry proudly says to all. "Mary is going to marry my son, Sebastian. And claim England."

Maniacal laughter ensued. "I beg your pardon? You want my daughter, Mary, Queen of Scots, marrying your bastard son? You've lost your mind." Putting her arms around her daughter, as if to console Mary. "Don't you worry, my dear, we'll get Francis back. Now, Henry, honor France's promise. My daughter will marry the dauphin Francis. So where are you hiding Francis?"

"She's not marrying Francis. Francis is not the dauphin. I am." Bash words rang loudly. He wasn't going to let Marie de Guise wrestle her way into this.

Rolling her eyes, "This is too low, even for you, Henry. Making a bastard claim he's the dauphin. Don't mock me. Don't mock the alliance."

"He'll be the dauphin, Marie. Once I get him legitimized."

"So he's still a bastard."

"I won't be one anymore, your grace. The Pope will legitimize my birth. I am learning to be the dauphin. I will be the dauphin. I am the dauphin!" Bash was growing in confidence with the tutors and Mary's tutelage on ruling the country. He feels he must let Marie de Guise know he is capable.

"Oh, dauphin, tell me, what have you learned of Adalberon?"

"Adalberon? It is a small town. Near the waters."

"Who gave the title Dauphin?"

"France. My father."

"Bash, what do you know of Scotland? Its people?"

"That you are fighting with England because they want to take your country from Mary."

"Have you ruined Mary?"

"Mother! I am not sleeping with Bash!" Mary was completely mortified. She only slept with Francis.

"That's good to know, dear. Keep your virtue intact. I heard rumors, rather, the towns were buzzing about your escapade with Bash."

"And what of Francis then, bastard? What of your half-brother?" going to stand in front of Bash.

"He'll be free of me." Mary said in the background.

"Silence! I did not ask you, Mary. I am asking you, bastard. What will you do to Francis?"

"Mother, Bash won't do anything to Francis. He's his brother-"

"Have you ever learned from your studies of the histories of countries, Mary? Of our beloved Scotland? How many brothers fought each other? How many died against the swords of their own kin? How many families betrayed each other because of power?"

"Bash won't do that, he's-"

"And yet, he's here claiming he's the dauphin. A title only, the real heir of France can claim. And that is Francis."

Marie then walked towards Henry. "He has already betrayed his brother, Mary, as has everyone in this court."

"That's enough, Marie. The only traitor in our midst is Catherine and that axe will take her head off." Henry was livid. This woman doesn't know anything. "Mary will marry Bash. Once he's legitimized, they'll be married. That's final!"

"No! Not final! The alliance stated the real heir to France, the real heir of the King and Queen of France, will marry my daughter, Mary, Queen of Scots. Your bastard is not the real heir. He's not the son of Queen Catherine, whether she has betrayed your bed or not! You are breaking the alliance!"

"Then once I find Diane, I will marry her after Catherine is dead! And Bash will be the real heir of France." Henry roared.

"We cannot afford to wait for your delusions to happen, Henry. Who knows when the Pope will legitimize your bastard. Or where your mistress is. My daughter's 17th birthday is in three days. She must be married by then.I won't have her married to a pauper. Honor the alliance, Henry. Mary must marry the real heir of France, and that is Francis!"

"No, she can't. I already ruined her."

* * *

I tweaked the ages: Mary's 17, Francis 16, Bash is 21. which is appropriate to how Reign has made the actors look.

Also Fanfiction doesn't have Marie de Guise in their characters slot, WHY?


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Because Marie de Guise is formidable.

* * *

"No, she can't. I already ruined her."

"WHAT?"

Three voices chorused. The two female voices were a given, but the third? Did not see that coming.

"What did you say, Sebastian?"

Henry was getting redder and redder by the second. He knew the treaty. He learned the alliance by heart. If Bash had ruin Mary, it would be the confirmation Marie de Guise needs that France has broken the alliance. France will be doomed. France will be known as a traitor. Henry Valois will be known as a traitor king. By a product of his own lust and philandering.

Henry, the King of traitors. The humiliation! And the retribution! France will fall to its knees! Not only to Scotland but to Spain, to every other country.

"He's lying!" Mary stressed out. "I did not sleep with him. I am not sleeping with him!"

Greer and Kenna were next to her, throwing dagger looks at Bash. If Bash did ruin Mary, they're station as Ladies-in-waiting will be in jeopardy as they haven't done their duties. Their families will also be humiliated.

"Mary, I love you. We tell this court that something happened between us. That I ruined you. We can be wed!"

SLAP!

The lightening force of Mary de Guise's left back hand connected with Bash's right cheek. Her hand, adorned with huge rings, left a bloody mess.

"You ruined my daughter? A Queen?!"

Back hands! the same cheek again. Another gush of blood flowed through the cut.

"You betrayed the alliance! And you say you love her? How could you? How could you let this happen, Henry? How could you permit this?"

Marie strikes another back hand and Bash's cheek is just unfortunate.

"And you think because you've ruined my daughter that I will allow you to marry her? Putting this pauper as the heir to marry my Queen? Think that the alliance will still be intact? NO! I demand retribution!"

Mary shrieks like a banshee, "MOTHER! MUST I SCREAM FROM THE TOP OF MY LUNGS? HE'S LYING! I DID NOT SLEEP WITH HIM! I AM NOT SLEEPING WITH HIM!"

"FRANCIS!"

Catherine runs eagerly to Francis, shouting his name again and again, hoping Francis hasn't heard whatever words were flowing from Marie, from Bash, from Mary.

"I miss you, my son! Its been too long." Francis just let Catherine cling to him. Never for once, did he imagine he would miss his mother's touch. And it certainly distracted him from looking for Mary, the love whose not his to love anymore. Not to mention, his mother has cut off his peripheral vision from the side, thus preventing him from any signs of her.

"Lola!" Kenna's voice cut through. Lola, who was behind Francis, was trying to get to Mary's side.

"Your grace, majesty. Francis saved me. We rode together here."

"Rode together? OR rode together?" Mary gritted her teeth. Seeing Francis again, squeezed her heart painfully. And she noticed how Lola looked at Francis. She wanted to run and hug Francis and kiss him and make love to him. At the same time, she wanted to kill Lola at this moment. Jealousy was eating at her.

"I'm here for my mother. I'm here to plead for her life. That's all. And you'll never see or hear from me again." Francis addresses the court and his father, still not looking at the other side where Mary was.

"We'll leave and never return."

"Ahem! I don't believe we were introduced." Marie already curtsied in front of Francis. It seems Marie moves fast.

"You're Marie-"

"Yes, Marie de Guise Stuart. My name precedes me. And you're the real dauphin Francis. A pleasure to meet you. Can't say I'm please with the others here." She moves closer, inspecting Francis' face.

"I can't say its a pleasure to meet you, your grace. But I hope you'll enjoy your stay here at the French court." Francis bowed which was difficult with Catherine's arms around him. Catherine wasn't letting him go.

"I think you can help me enjoy my stay here, Dauphin."

"Francis. Please call me by name, Francis. That title doesn't mean anything to me anymore."

"As you wish, Francis. Tell me, what do you know of Adalberon?"

"What? All I know of Adalberon is, without his support of Hugh Capet, the Valois family line wouldn't be monarchs of France. He helped Capet be elected to King of France. And Capet is King Henry's ancestor. Why? Has the King of France named a new town in honor of Adalberon?"

Booming laughter came from Marie. She's beginning to see why Mary's letters were full of Francis this and Francis that.

"And what of Scotland?"

"It is your country. You might be riddled with problems with the English, but it doesn't become you. Scotland is a beautiful country, and its people are good hard-working people. And you've fertile lands. Fertile for plantations-" Marie was smiling from ear to ear. She loves Francis already. "-along with vegetation, the land is also fertile with coal, iron and silver. And, gold. Good for craftsmen and their craft. I see a future in Smithing... "

"Spoken like a true king who knows his land and his people." Marie de Guise nods in awe.

"Indeed, we raised a good son." Henry boasted, proud at a son he never been a real father to.

"Then as payment for the betrayal of France-"

"Marie de Guise! What-"

"-and the humiliation France has set upon on Scotland-" Francis broke away from Catherine. Henry stomped towards Marie.

"Stop this nonsense, Marie! No payment-"

"On the contrary, Henry, I blame you for this nonsense! You betrayed Scotland. You! Bastard broke the alliance. And I will have my payment. I will have Scotland's payment!"

"Mother, stop. I did not sleep with Bash!"

But Marie wasn't listening. She will have her payment.

"Francis, I do believe you know the alliance and if its broken, there will be retribution. I demand retribution."

"What do you want, your grace? I cannot offer you anything. I am not the King of France."

Marie held Francis face in her hands, "Oh, I do know you are not Henry. You have honor. You love France. And if you can help it, you'd want France to overcome its shortcomings."

"I- your grace-" Francis was a lost for words. He can see in Marie's eyes that she wanted him but for what? And all he can think about was, Marie will bring him closer to Mary. Mary. Mary. Mary who was now wrenching her mother away from him.

"Mother, stop. There's no need for this. We can make a new alliance. No marriage-"

Marie, with determination and the iron-clad will of a harden sovereign, set her eyes on her daughter, "I will have Francis, the real Dauphin of France, as payment!"

"I will have him as my husband."

* * *

Toldya heads will roll.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Will Heads Roll Today?

* * *

"Mother!" To say, Mary was appalled at Marie, was an understatement, along with Catherine and all the other people in the court.

"What?" Marie rolls her eyes. "At least I didn't want Henry and the bastard's heads on a golden platter. I am not that cruel."

"And Mary, dear, this is why I didn't let any bastards of your father running around Scotland's court. They will bite the hand that feeds them. You might as well kill yourself. As they have no qualms in stabbing you in the back."

"And it makes perfect sense. Francis will come with us to Scotland. A living, breathing reminder that alliances should never be betrayed."

Circling Francis, Marie continues on. "He'll do whatever Scotland asks of him. He'll never come back here. Never to stay in France. He'll never get to rule France at all."

"A fitting punishment for France, losing their beloved dauphin Francis, don't you think so, Henry, King of Traitors?" looking at Henry, who in turn, had a speculative look.

"Of course, a marriage will shroud that detail. To save Francis, rather France, the public humiliation. Unlike Scotland's humiliation in the hands of France."

"You can't have my son, Marie! He is a not payment! He is not –'

"Silence, Catherine! I could still have your head, along with Henry's. Tolerating this betrayal, this unrest. I sent my daughter here to be spared from the strife in Scotland and to learn and honor the alliance, and what has happened? I get here, my queen refusing to marry the dauphin and traipsing with the bastard?"

Taking her daughter by the shoulders, they stand side by side, in front of Francis and Catherine.

"There will be no more of this. Francis will belong to Mary, to Scotland. And the alliance will be no more. We'll make do with what we have."

"Will my mother, my brothers and sisters be welcome to Scotland? Not as payment, but to live there freely?" Francis spoke softly but firmly. He was tired from traveling, and everything that has happened. He surprised himself that he's still standing and awake.

And before returning back to court, Francis himself had been in correspondence with his sister Elizabeth in Spain and other family relatives in Italy. They were gracious to answer his letters and welcome him and his family, if he decides to go there. What's another country that will welcome his family and let them live their lives as free people as another viable option.

"Hmm, brothers and sisters, yes. Catherine? Oh why not. We'll just have to make a treaty regarding her. She'll have to be generous to the Scots. I do not trust your mother, Francis."

"I don't trust you either, Marie. You and your daughter – "

"Mother, shut up."

Kneeling wobbly with one knee before Marie, Francis bowed his head, closed his eyes to stop seeing dancing spots and took hold of one hand, "I accept, Your grace."

"Splendid. Now, swore to Scotland. Swore to the one whose hand you're holding. Swore to Mary, Queen of Scots, you will belong to Scotland."

Francis looked up with wide eyes, startled. Out of all the mistakes he has done in royal court and legal proceedings, this one takes the cake. It was supposed to be Marie's hand, instead he was holding Mary's hand. And her hand curled around his with gentleness and familiarity. If only, he could twine their hands, his fingers within the spaces between her fingers.

Mary looked at him with a sad smile, yet there was a spark in her eyes, like the first time they saw each other again when she arrived as a young lady. To go back and start again. Too bad, there's no turning back the clock.

"Swore Francis."

"I, Francis, Dauphin of France – "

"No!" Mary stopped his words. "Swore to me, Francis. Swore to me, just a boy."

And Francis smiled a bittersweet smile, she just had to remind him of that time.

He took a deep breath, bowed his head, and – "NO!" What now?

"Look at me, Francis. Look me in the eyes and swear." Mary tilted his chin up and left her hand on his jaw. She wanted his gaze on her as she said the words softly, that only the two of them can hear. "Swore to me, as a boy, as I am just a girl."

"I, Francis, just a boy, of France, belong to Mary, just a girl, Queen of Scots. I will be hers and hers only – "

"Louder, Francis." Surprisingly, it was a jovial Henry who declared that.

His usurper now, his redeemer, his payment should be heard by the entire court. And no more hanging Scotland around his neck. He'll just have to take England by force. After he takes Scotland, that is. He and Bash, his favorite son, can take Scotland then.

'I, FRANCIS OF FRANCE, WILL BELONG TO SCOTLAND AS PAYMENT FOR FRANCE'S BETRAYAL OF THE AULD ALLIANCE. THUS THE AULD ALLIANCE IS BROKEN AND NO MORE TIES BETWEEN SCOTLAND AND FRANCE."

"Good! Now that's that. We'll burn the Auld Alliance documents and treaties as they are null and void. And tonight, Francis will wed Marie de Guise."

* * *

Francis and Marie, will the?


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Family

* * *

Previously on Reign-wait- previously:

'I, FRANCIS OF FRANCE, WILL BELONG TO SCOTLAND AS PAYMENT FOR FRANCE'S BETRAYAL OF THE AULD ALLIANCE. THUS THE AULD ALLIANCE IS BROKEN AND NO MORE TIES BETWEEN SCOTLAND AND FRANCE."

"Good! Now that's that. We'll burn the Auld Alliance documents and treaties as they are null and void. And tonight, Francis will wed Marie de Guise."

* * *

"Henry, Henry, Henry!" Marie admonishes. "I just got here! Francis just got here! And you'll have us married without the pomp and circumstance of the lavish French court? Shame on you!"

Marie takes Francis' hand from Mary's and making him stand up. "Give us some time to prepare and be glorious on our wedding day. And night."

Smiling at Francis, "Besides in three days, it's my daughter's birthday. I think it would be fitting for Francis and I to get married that day. Right, my daughter? Meet your stepfather Francis."

Mary felt like vomiting, while the rest didn't know whether to laugh or be disgusted. Catherine was already heaving, raring to punch the lights out of Marie, but she was caged in Nostradamus' strong arms. Nostradamus also had a hand on her mouth, keeping her silent.

Henry grimaces, thinking that he'll have to endure being a good host to this old rude barbaric woman. How dare she?

"What are you grimacing about, Henry? Its not as if this is the first time you've seen an older woman with a younger man. Have you seen you're mistress Diane? She's thrice the lifetime older than you. And you're not grimacing at her. Though thank God, she isn't here. I can only take so much, looking at mistresses and their bastard children."

She didn't go there, did she? Killing her would be good for France and Scotland.

"Oh and the Pope will grace the wedding. I took the liberty of informing him a month ago about the wedding of Mary and Francis. And he was gracious to say he'd like to be here for this joyous occasion."

There goes the plot to kill this insane woman.

"We'll just inform him of the changes when he comes later today. So better prepare a feast this night! The Pope will be here!"

"Now, Francis and I will get acquainted while you prepare for the Pope and the feast." leading Francis away from the congregation. "Tell me, Francis, how well do you know Scotland? Wait, Mary, dear, aren't you coming? Come along now. We've got my wedding to prepare."

* * *

"Francis!" A shrill voice sounded from the hall, along with the sound of a bunch of little feet running.

Francis can't help but smile at his brothers and sisters running towards them. He missed them so much. He forgot about Mary. Forgot about Marie. Forgot about everyone except the family he has right now. And he opens his arms wide for them.

Charles being the tallest and fastest, reached Francis first and got the first hug.

"We missed you, Francis! Are you here to stay?" Little Henry was next to be hoisted up into Francis' arms. The blonde boy kissed Francis' left cheek.

"I missed you too. I've been thinking of you when I was traveling."

"Hmph, you thought of us? You should have taken us with you on your travels." Little Marguerite, 2 years older than little Henry with gold ringlets and the most outspoken one, pouted. She was most displeased her big brother left the castle. Well, left without her.

"I apologize, Miss Marguerite. Next time, we'll travel together."

"You better! You brought presents?"

"Francis, where did you go?"

"Yay, presents!"

"Want to play swords now?"

"I don't want to play with Bash anymore."

"He's boring. He doesn't do voices like you do."

"He hates my dollies!"

"He's not You!"

"Francis! I want a hug!"

"Oh dear, we shouldn't forget Miss Claude. Come here, little miss." The little girl, the youngest of the bunch, smiled a big toothy smile while she climbed into Francis' unoccupied arm, thus Claude on the right side and Henry on the left.

"Well, I'm here now. We can play all you want."

"No, let's read stories!"

Francis puffed, "Even better, I'll tell you a story about one amazing man! How does that sound?"

"New stories?"

"Only a man? What about girls?"

"Francis, who is she?" Marguerite asked, referring to Marie de Guise.

Marie crouched in front of the girl, "Hello! I'm Marie and I'll be-"

"Marguerite, she's my mother. Marie de Guise." Mary interrupted. She didn't want the children to know that her mother will be their brother Francis' wife. She couldn't even comprehend it herself. And she refused to acknowledge that fact, maybe until she dies. Francis becoming her stepfather - ugh just no.

"Good day, your majesty. Its a pleasure to meet you. But I have to say, I don't like Mary. One day, she was betrothed to Francis, then the next to-"

"Marguerite! That's rude." Francis chastises his sister. "It is none of your concern. Apologize to your grace. Now."

"Hmph! I-"

"Apologize. It is unbecoming of a princess such as you to act in such a way. Apologize."

"Fine! Its rude. But I won't apologize. Let's go, I want to listen to your story now!" And little Marguerite turned her back on them, pouting again.

Francis turns toward Marie and Mary, "I apologize your grace, to you and Queen Mary. My sister is still young and -"

"Don't worry about it, Francis." Marie dismisses the incident. "I like her spunk though. I believe you were gonna tell them stories. Would it be so demanding, if, as your future, I'd want to come and listen too?"

"Yeah, you should listen to Francis' story-telling time! He's so good!" Charles boasted.

"And he does voices!" Henry pipes in.

"Francis, will you sing to us?" a half-asleep Claude clutches at his shirt.

"Oh no, don't fall asleep, Claude. You haven't heard my story yet."

"Well, let's leave to our rooms then, Francis. I'm getting impatient here, me, Marguerite."

Charles rolled his eyes, "By all means, Marguerite, lead the way."

And Marguerite led, with her head held high.

"So who's this man, Francis?" Charles inquired as they walked.

"Well, Charles, its about a brave man. Bravest of the brave."

"He fights dragons?"

"Even better. He fought for freedom."

"Freedom?"

"Yes. Freedom."

"His name was William Wallace."

"Scotsman."

"Braveheart."

* * *

Yes, a little short for now... I wanted to introduce Francis' siblings and their family dynamics in the story. That's 2 younger sisters, Claude and Marguerite and then we have 2 younger brothers: Henry and Charles.

Thanks for reading, leaving reviews and following/favorite my stories. Most of my works are all on a whim, so do forgive the errors. And the weird ways of my mind. lol


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - William Wallace

* * *

"So, he's dead." Marguerite deadpans.

"Marguerite."

"What? He's dead!" she reiterates.

"Marguerite, William Wallace lived 300 years ago, of course, he's dead." Charles rolled his eyes at his sister.

"Francis, you said he fought for his freedom and his people from the English and he died because of it. Well, that is unacceptable! What good is fighting for freedom when he can't enjoy this so-called freedom?!" Marguerite was standing in the middle of Francis' bed, with her hands on either side of her waist. Henry was on his belly looking at Francis, Claude still attached to Francis while Charles was situated near the head board.

"Marguerite, William Wallace died fighting for freedom. But that doesn't mean he wasn't a free man. Come here, sit beside me." Patting his free side, Francis cuddled Marguerite to him.

"You see, Marguerite, when you fight for a cause, you believe in that cause, you are freeing yourself from the bounds that held you captive. William Wallace did that. He freed himself from the bad rulers-"

"Who weren't the real rulers of Scotland!" Henry exclaimed, making Francis laugh.

"Yes, not the real rulers. Bad people, who wanted more power and wanted the Scots under their rule." Francis continued. "And because of what he did, what he is- a good man, he gave the Scots the choice to freedom. He sowed the seeds and the Scots reaped the fruits."

"Still, he shouldn't have died. It was for a good cause. He should have enjoyed it." Marguerite pouted.

Charles looked at her. "Maybe there are causes worth fighting for. Even dying for. Peace. Freedom. Right, Francis?"

"Indeed, Charles, there are." Francis felt proud. Charles understood the lessons imparted by William Wallace. He hopes Charles will be a good king. Charles, will be the next heir as he cannot be one anymore.

"The Scots did believe in the cause and in William Wallace, but, what if they hadn't? What if the Scots didn't? What if they gave up on him?"

Charles was really thinking of the life led by William Wallace. He knows Francis didn't say how he really died, but he figured William Wallace must have been captured and then killed. For him to die before achieving the full freedom the Scots should have, made Charles think he could have been sold and betrayed. And its why Mary and Scotland are still fighting against the English.

"Well, if they give up on him? And if they give up on you, then they are not worth your time. Right, Francis? You could say, you'd give for your life for them, for the cause, but if they turn their backs on you, betray you, then they don't believe in the cause, don't believe in you and shouldn't be worth anything."

"Why should you fight or die for them when they won't fight for you?"

"Because, Charles, they are your people. And your people could have the knowledge, some might not. They might think it will not be good for them and others might. Some will betray. Some will be loyal. Some will die and some will live to tell the tale."

Francis paused. "All of you, listen to me. Some will also go far to embellish your truths and paint you in the most vile of ways. And sometimes, you can't do anything about it."

"But it is your duty to your people, to tell your people, to listen, to help them, to make them understand, to rule over them. Let France flourish and be bountiful. Be protected by the grace of God. That's what must be in your heart and in your mind. Understand?"

"Hmmph, if it was me and they betray me, I'll make sure to _free_ all their deeds to the people. Even give them bad reputations. I won't kill them, I'll play with them."

"Marguerite! Don't ever do that." Francis admonishes her. "Never, ever do that. Once a person is ruin, it will be difficult to erase the blemish placed upon his name. If ever it can be erased." He kisses her hair as well as Claude's. He wishes so hard that his siblings won't ever ruin each other. He'll make sure of that. He won't let them have the waste of a relationship like he has with Bash now. No he's not Bash, not anymore. He's Sebastian.

To be betrayed by the one you look up to. The one whom he thought filled the void of their father's love. He thought it all was good.

Francis, with his capacity to love, held in high regard the closeness he and King Henry's first-born shared. That being close to their father's favorite is better than not knowing said father could be able to love a child like he does Bas-Sebastian. That he and his siblings might get a chance. Have their father see him. Really see him, Francis, his other son. See them, his other children. See them all and love them all.

Oh, what a childish thought. Time to wake up and live in the real world.

"Fine. Story time finished?"

"Yes. And now, you have to take your naps. Come on, up-"

"Francis, can we just sleep here? We can all squeeze in your bed?" Henry said. He was about to fall asleep and didn't want to move.

"Fine, we can all sleep in here." Francis relented and his siblings arrange themselves parallel to the edge of the bed, with Francis at the foot.

"Ah, Francis?" Marie called out from the couch where she and her daughter were sitting.

"Your majesty? I apologize, I forgot you were there and – "

"No, don't get up, Francis. Be with your siblings. We'll see ourselves out. And sleep. You need it."

"Thank you, your majesty. I do apologize – "

"Francis, sing!" Claude insisted as she clung to him, effectively cutting the conversation between Francis and Marie.

"Will you sleep after I sing?" but he's tickling her. The little girl giggles.

A chorus of Yeses was heard.

Francis sang to them, completely forgetting again the Scots, as Marie insistently pulled a stunned Mary towards the door.

Leaving the Valois siblings in relative peace.

* * *

"Get a hold of yourself, Mary. You're a queen. Wipe those tears!" Marie scolded Mary as she pushed her against the hidden alcove. "Don't ever let people see you crying. They will use that against you."

"Mama, Francis, Francis is – we can't – "

"Shut up!" Marie furiously wiping away Mary's tears, "This is not the place, nor the time to discuss that. Now, don't cry. Don't slouch. Be the queen. Come on."

* * *

Two or three chapters left.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Mother and Daughter

* * *

Closing the doors to Mary's chambers, Marie unloads on Mary.

"What was that? That display earlier was preposterous! Asking Francis to belong to you? Like a girl asking a boy to love her! Ridiculous! Be glad I was the only one who heard. Mary, you are not a girl. You're a queen!"

Fisting her hands, Marie paces like a caged animal in front of the bed while Mary laid on it, overlooking the window. The sun was going down. The night was stealing away the light, Mary feels like her life was slowly draining away, along with the light.

"Who, YOU, need all the options going your way! And don't even get me started on you and that bastard. What were you thinking, Mary? Or were you even thinking at all? Your uncle? What good is your uncle? You just had to be stubborn."

"And isn't it too harsh of you to ask Francis to love you? You obviously don't love him much as you say in your letters when you go and be with the bastard?"

"No!" Mary sits up suddenly, startling Marie.

"I love Francis! I will always love him. He will always, always be the one. I just can't marry him. I can't let him die. Mother, he'll die if he marries me! I can't have that. I won't have that. I can't live in this world if Francis dies, Mother. I can't. I won't." Mary folds into herself, putting her forehead on her knees, sobbing and chanting 'Francis can't die. Francis can't die. Francis can't die.'

Marie goes to her child, wanting to comfort her but doesn't know where to begin. "Who's threatening you? Mary, tell me! Is it Catherine? We'll get their heads for this. Tell me!"

Mary looks up at her, imploring. "Mama, please don't let Francis die. I can't live if he dies. I can't."

"Oh Mary, tell me. My child, tell me." Marie sits besides Mary. This time wiping her tears ever so gently. "What has happened? Tell me."

* * *

"A prophecy?!"

"You did all this, because of a PROPHECY?" Marie looked murderous and she was looming over her daughter. "You jeopardize your crown, your reputation, your dignity, your people, YOURSELF, SCOTLAND! For a prophecy?"

"Áylee is dead! Nostradamus said Aylee will never return to Scotland. I believe in the prophecy! I can't be the reason for Francis dying! I can't, Mama. I can't! I'd rather live without him than be the one holding him when he dies." Mary poured out her anguish. Why can't they understand? Francis is her happiness and if he dies, what good would she be? She's doing this to protect her heart. Protect Francis from her self. Protect her heart from her self.

"So you stabbed him in the back? Take his birthright and offer it to his bastard – brother? Why not Charles then? You just had to endanger the entire Valois – de Medicis family. Oh Mary, don't you realize you made Francis a target for assassinations?"

"No, Francis will not be harm – "

"Good God, Mary! Every monarch has enemies! Valois has enemies! More so with de Medicis! WE, Stuart and de Guise HAVE ENEMIES!"

"I know that, Mother! I've had assassination attempts too!"

"And you don't think, letting in a bastard be legitimize so that you can marry him will stop your so-called prophecy? Won't harm Francis? Won't give him and his siblings, more enemies?"

"Yes! He'll still be a royal and have the protection of King Henry and Bash and France."

"Tell me, Mary, do you know where Francis was during all this time? While you bask and be a teacher and mother and a lover to the bastard, where do you think Francis was?"

"I am not Bash's lover! How many times do I have to tell you? I am not his lover!" Marie just raised her left eyebrow at her daughter. "I – I don't know. But the squire has told us, he was well in Paris. Like I said, King Henry was looking after him."

"So you don't know then. For someone who says you can't live in a world where Francis dies, you don't even know what has happen to him."

"No, not all the details. But he's safe and alive and free."

"So you don't know who he has bedded?" Marie taunted. "You don't know who gave him pleasure. How many women he had in one night or two or three nights, huh?"

"I don't care how many women he's had." Mary lies through her teeth. "Just that his safe."

"Well, good. I was afraid you'd kill Lola. You know you can't kill Lola. Her father is funding some of Scotland's army. We can't have their support away from our reserves." Marie taunted a little bit more.

"You're a bitch, Mother!" Oh, Mary would like to kill Lola and every damn woman that Francis has had. Olivia, Natalia, that prostitute Bash took Francis to and took Francis' virginity away, every other girl. And she'd also like to kill his mother and her mother.

"Oh, you're jealous? Marvelous!" laughing at her fuming daughter, "But you don't have the right to be jealous, Mary. He's not yours anymore. He's mine. And I'm not jealous. Francis has never had a real woman of power in his bed. I'll be the first."

"Shut up, Mother! Francis and I were together! We made love several times. We made each other burn. And he'll never forget what we had. I know. Cause I'll never forget what WE had. And you can't take that away!" Mary shouted as she was holding onto her stomach.

"Ooh, the truth at last!" Marie was giddy. "So you're pregnant, then? That's good. We'll have to be very careful. We won't tell them about your baby. We do have to tie up loose ends. We'll make sure to keep it all clean. Now, where do you think in this castle, where Henry is most vulnerable?"

"No, mother. I am not pregnant. I wanted to be. Francis and I wanted to be, but, I'm not." There was pain in those words. And longing. So much longing.

"And you can't kill King Henry."

"Mary, I'm disappointed in you. Who says we're killing anyone? And all your trysts, you're still not pregnant? Poor you. Poor Francis. But that's not the point is it, Mary?" Marie looks over the window, watching the setting sun. "Point is, you could have had babies now. You could have had them. Together with Francis."

"I wish so hard I was, Mama. A boy with his blue eyes and golden curls or a girl with his wit and gentleness and my eyes. I can even see a child with your face and stubbornness, mother. And she'll be the bossiest child we have. We would have. We could have had. But I can't marry him or else he'll die. I don't want him to die. He can never die. He mustn't." And tears sprang again from Mary's eyes but Marie never saw it. The sun took hold of Marie's attention.

"I suppose its irrelevant now to say, how many times Francis has come close to death." Marie mumbles to herself. Its not like Francis will be in harms' way anymore. She'll make sure Francis will be protected in Scotland. Her daughter's happiness must be protected. At all cost.

"What?"

Outside the torches flared up, signaling evening has come.

"Oh, its time to prepare for the feast. Come on, let's get you prepared. I think the Pope has arrived. And he'd be at the feast. We have to prepare."

"Mother, what do you mean, Francis coming close to death?"

"Did I say that?" Marie lies.

Would it do good if Mary knows of how Francis was thrown off his scared horse and landed awkwardly on his back? Or the time Francis tried to rescue a little girl from a rabid dog and got bitten himself? Or that time, he got fever from the bite. Or that time an assassin, paid handsomely by Diane de Poitiers, disguised as a disgruntled drunk managed to swipe a knife towards Francis, but his lanky built and leather coat saved him.

"No Mary, I didn't say anything. Come on, let's prepare. The lights are up."

* * *

Two more to go...


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - The Idea of Love

* * *

The feast was uneventful. The Pope arrived in an exuberant mood. He was happy and talkative. The center of attention and apparently, a breath of fresh air.

"As holy as I am, by the grace of God, I am famished. So no talk of anything, other than this delicious food in front of us." Raising his glass to Queen Catherine, "Long may you reign, Catherine. You always had superb taste!"

Catherine takes the compliment like the graceful hostess that she is.

Smiling daintily at the Pope, "Thank you, your eminence. The bounties of France and of Italy is a blessing from God. We cannot thank God enough for his blessings." Queen Butterfly mode was on. No one can entertain a guest like Catherine can.

All were seated at their designated seats. Sebastian wasn't allowed yet to be seated at the royal table. And Henry couldn't and wouldn't put him to meet the Pope now. He can't afford to. He must make nice until this payment has been fully transacted, that is, the nuptial documents are signed and ratified. He discretely, behind everybody's back, had burn the treaty, minutes after the Pope arrived. Yes, this feast is also his thanksgiving to God for taking care of everything. And he will have England. And Scotland. And every country in Europe. And then the world.

"And also the celebration of the arrival of my son, the Dauphin Francis from his travels." Catherine pointedly looked at Marie and Mary to keep their mouths shut. No use of discussing the impending nuptials and other dark cloud in Catherine's mind.

"Indeed, Catherine. I heard Francis was quite the dashing hero. And how reckless he has been. That boy- "

"You knew Francis of his travels?" Mary couldn't help but asked. Something about how tight-lipped Marie had become. She wouldn't say what she meant of Francis coming close to death. "Reckless? Was he in any danger? How did you meet?"

"Of course, Mary. Didn't you? Haven't you?"

"Your eminence, don't mind my daughter. She just misses Francis so much, she thinks she hasn't heard enough of Francis' travels-"

"Because I have never heard any! And being reckless-"

"Mary, Francis is a boy. And having freedom for the first time, he's bound to be reckless."

"Talking behind my back, I see."

Francis comes strutting in. He looked beautiful in his white and gold ensemble. The trimmed hair and clean-shaven face also brought out a more youthful Francis. He was every bit of the Dauphin he is.

But to Mary, everything, everyone was dulled out. All were in bored tones, except for Francis. He was techni-color in a hazy, gray world. It was as if, the heavens open up and put forth a beam of light on Francis and gave him every tone of the rainbow. The way his golden head bob on, the blueness of his eyes, the healthy color of his cheeks, the redness of his lips. And Mary couldn't but sigh. Was it only hours ago, she last saw him? He looked haggard then. A good sleep amongst his siblings and a lot of pampering from Catherine did wonders for Francis. While she didn't bother wearing a new gown, nor put up her hair. She was in the same dress she wore when she came back to the French court. The first time she met Francis as a young man. Marie almost lost her head, when she saw Mary wearing an old dress. What would the Pope think? France think? But Mary was stubborn, she will not wear any new dresses. Besides, most of her dresses don't fit right anyway. Will Francis remember their meeting in this dress? Will Francis look at her that way again?

"Francis! Dear dauphin, come sit beside me." The Pope in his exuberance slapped the table hard.

When Francis bowed to pay respect, Mary swore she saw a flutter of silvery wings on his back.

How could she even think she could love another? How could she think she could learn to love another? How could she think she could forget? How could she hurt this beautiful person? This angel.

"Your eminence. How are you, sir?"

"I'm good, Francis. And I'm buzzed. This is very good wine, Catherine. Delicious! Come, sit beside me, Francis. You have to tell me how you met Clementine. She can't stop talking about you-"

"Ah, as much as it is an honor to sit beside you, your holiness, I have to pass on that good fortune. I am going to sit with my brothers and sisters, sir. I have missed them terribly and I want to spend these days with them. And as for Lady Clementine, till next time." Francis smiles slightly at the Pope.

"What a good brother! I understand. Go on, we can talk tomorrow then." Shooing Francis towards the children's table.

"I look forward to that, your holiness." Leaving the table, with a bigger smile.

"You raised a good son, Catherine, Henry. Friar Pierre was telling me about the generous offer Francis made-" as the Pope drones on and on about how good Francis is, Mary on the other hand, couldn't take her attention away from Francis.

Whoever coined the phrase, Out of sight, out of mind, was clearly right. Now that Francis is back, she can't get him off her mind. Will she always be looking for him? Looking at him from a distance? Could she keep her distance? The prophecy said, it was her marriage to Francis that will bring his death. But he belongs to her now. To Scotland. And she is Scotland. Isn't this like marriage? Except Francis' life is now hers for the taking. And he has no way out. Isn't all this, is making Francis' imminent death closer? Oh God! What if this is the prophecy? What if they interpreted it the wrong way?

Nostradamus! She had to talk to him and make sure Francis will not die.

"Excuse me, your holiness, your grace. But my head aches. I think I'll retire for the night." Abruptly leaving the table, not bothering to answer her mother's inquiry.

She had to be quick. Nostradamus didn't attend the festivities and his quarters' a bit of a trek from the main dining hall. And she needs to bring Francis too.

She stops by their table. At Francis' side.

"Francis, I need you." Well, that came out too strongly. Four pairs of innocent eyes peered at her.

"Your grace, I am indisposed at the moment. As you can see, I am dining with my siblings."

"But Francis-"

"No. Can't you just give me this night?" Francis turns to look at her, and all the air sucks out of Mary. She can see in his eyes, how tired and miserable he really is. The fight in him is gone. He has resigned himself to be this payment. And its heartbreaking. She broke him. She broke Francis.

"Please, just one night. One measly night, just for myself. Just for me."

"I can't." I need you. I need you to live.

"Fine." Francis stands up "Charles, if I'm not back in 10 minutes, you can look for me and drag me back here, ok?" and quickly leaves the hall.

* * *

Mary has to double her steps to catch up with Francis. Suddenly, he turns around and pushes her into the hidden alcove, his right hand against her chest.

"What are you getting at? Can't you stop for one night? Tomorrow, tomorrow, you can do whatever you want with me, heck, even guillotine me if you will. But just not now." He grits at her.

"Francis, I need, we need to see Nostradamus now! We have to make sure the prophecy will not happen. That you won't die. What if being married to my mother, belonging to Scotland, to me, is the prophecy. I won't have you die. I can't have you die!" she implores.

He laughs sardonically, "As opposed to you stabbing me in the back? And taking away everything that I ever knew? Everything that I was born to do? Everything that I love? Thanks so much!"

"I was saving you!" she pushes away from him. Tears running down her face. "I told you, I will always save you. I won't have you die because of me. Francis, I can't have you die. I love you!"

"You say you love me, but I don't believe you. I hear words, but I don't feel it. You said you saved me, and yet, I'm the one who lost everything. Everything! Even my name." Francis takes a step away from her.

"No, you didn't save me. You saved yourself. You don't want blood on your hands as the bloody prophecy said I was to die because of you. We could have done anything and everything against this prophecy. Together. I promised you that. But you believe in the prophecy more than my love for you. Than me. Than our love. Than God himself."

"You don't love me, Mary. You love the idea of me. You love the image, what I represented. What I was supposed to be to you."

He takes two steps towards her, crowding her again. "If you did really love me, you would have trusted me. My words, my love, my everything would have mattered to you."

"I would matter." He kisses her hand and her signet ring. "As you matter to me."

"Francis." Mary tries to breathe through her tears. She grabs the lapels of his coat, intending to keep him close to her.

He kisses her lips, biting her lower lip, savoring her essence. One last time.

"Tomorrow, I'll be your property. You can do whatever you wish with me. But tonight, I belong to me. And I will spend my remaining hours as my own person with the people who love me, without consequences and repercussions. My siblings."

He steps away from her, rearranging his white and gold ensemble.

"At the stroke of midnight, Francis Valois II, the dauphin, will die. He will cease to exist. I guess, you could say, the prophecy is fulfilled."

"Good bye, Mary. Be happy."


End file.
